


Just Like Old Times

by DaturaMoon



Series: Vikings [38]
Category: Vikings - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:28:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28355454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaturaMoon/pseuds/DaturaMoon
Relationships: Rollo (Vikings)/You
Series: Vikings [38]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1919068
Comments: 4
Kudos: 1





	Just Like Old Times

You craved him.   
Even after you kicked him out and swore to never see him again. Being close to Ragnar and Lagertha made that impossible.   
It only became easier when he left, after another stink of jealousy over his brother's fame, Rollo took off.   
You were able to breath again. To calm the sinful lust that man lit in you. To heal the wounds he left. To calm the hate you felt.   
Rollo wasn’t the kind of man to fall in love with, at least not this version of Rollo. Still, you fell. Hard.   
Two months of peace came to an end when he resurfaced.   
It was a gloomy day, the skies were grey and mist hung in the air teasing harder rain to come.   
You were working in your garden out back when you had that feeling. Someone was in your house.   
Placing the basket on the ground, you lift your dress, pulling the blades from your boots as you quietly re-enter the house.   
Though your heart beats faster, you were tough, strong, and a damn good fighter. You were sure you could take on the intruder.   
You move through the small bedroom, it’s clear. You’ve lived here long enough to know which boards creak the most, you avoid them.   
Turning into the main room, you find a large hooded figure standing there. Fear shoots through your body as you clench the handles of the small swords tighter.   
“If you want to fight, we can fight.” That familiar smugness on his voice laced with amusement hits your body like a strong wind.   
You exhale sharply, “Fuck! Rollo!”  
“I’ve always enjoyed how rough and competitive you become in battle.”  
You hate his voice. You hate because you love it.   
The sound sends signals through your body to prepare itself for what always comes next. But you can’t. You had to stick to it this time. You would never have sex with him again.   
Rollo lifts the hood with one hand, you remember how big his hands are and how they feel on your body. As the hood falls back, his chocolate brown eyes burn into yours.   
He’s looking at you that way. The way that always makes you wild. His head slightly lowered, his beautiful side profile on view.   
The rise and fall of your chest is no longer subtle, Rollo notices and takes a step closer. You raise the blades.   
“Come any closer and I’ll cut up the handsome face of yours.” You warn.   
Rollo chuckles, “would you?”   
Your eyes fall to his chest, his massive chest and how the brownish tan color of the tunic highlights his rich features. His hair, his skin, his beard, his eyebrows.   
Rollo was like a walking piece of fine chocolate. Highly addictive, it was near impossible to have just a taste.   
You clench your jaw and lift your chin, making yourself look him in the eyes, “go.”  
A smirk dances on his lips. You know what he’s about to do. You’ve known him your whole life and he you.  
Rollo makes a run for you, you move out of the way gaining the advantage and take a swipe. The blade barely cuts his arm as it slices through his shirt.   
The two of you spar in the kitchen, your bodies moving like a choreographed dance. All those afternoons training in the woods together coming through in this moment.   
Eventually Rollo uses his size to his advantage, pinning you beneath him on the ground and holding you there.   
A wild laughter erupts from within him as he traps your legs in between his own. He holds your wrist down above your head.   
“Just like old times.”  
He took it easy on you, you knew that. You only grow more furious at him.   
“Let me go!” You yell. You feel embarrassed, your body is being too predictable.   
Your nipples are hard, moisture increasing between your legs as a tingling sensation dances on your skin.   
Rollo doesn’t reply. His lusty eyes travel your form. He licks his lips and the tiniest moan falls off of them.   
He released your wrists. Rollo runs his hands down the length of your arms and over your breasts. He’s rough, he’s always rough. With rare gentle moments. Moments you were sure he’s only shared with you.   
But it feels good, you like it, you almost curve into it but beg yourself not to. Still, the way you push your hips up and lick your lips lessen your chances of survival.   
It’s only when Rollo tears the thin tunic open your common sense resurfaces. You lift your arm and slap him hard across the face. The sting still hurts your hand as he touches his cheek; a brief look of surprise in his eyes.   
It passes as soon as it comes. You feel his semi-erection grow full against you. Rubbing his face, Rollo smirks, “feisty.”  
You don’t know what comes over you, a scream leaves your lips as you slap him again.   
When he moves back you sit up, pulling your legs from beneath him. You throw your body into his, slapping and punching anything you can.   
“Y/n!” Rollo repeats your name a few times, trying to get your attention as he blocks your blows. But you’re in a rage. You can’t hear him.   
All you see is all the times he fucked up. All the times he made you feel like a fool for loving him. You feel rage for the loss of the old Rollo, the one who was worthy of your heart.   
Rollo eventually gets hold of you, holding you close to his own body. Arms around you like a vice.   
You look up at him with watery eyes, “what happened to you? I hate who you are! I hate who you’ve become!”  
He doesn’t speak but you can tell the words hit him like blades. You see it in his eyes.   
You try to move your arms, but they are pinned together between your bodies.   
“What happened to you?” You ask again.   
Rollos eyes narrow, he looks away, breaking eye contact.   
Feeling your nostrils flare you spit at him, catching him by surprise.   
Rollo brings you down to the floor, weighing you down with his body. He frees one hand to wipe his face.   
Before you have time to get out of the hold, his lips are back on yours. Your body betrays you: you kiss him.   
As the kiss heathens, his tongue claiming your own, he returns to your breasts. Pawing, grabbing, pinching.   
His other hand moves between your legs, he uses his knees to pry them open, making space for himself.   
Hiking up your dress, his hand finds your warmth. His growls into your mouth as he cups you. He loved how this feels, your pussy in his hand.   
Rollo was addicted to you.   
He was the moment he saw you. And the first time you kissed in the woods his fate was sealed. It was you; it would always be you.   
His mouth leaves your lips to leave a trail of hot kisses down to your breasts. He grabs your thigh, pulling your leg behind him.   
Rollo adds a finger, pulling you closer to release. You hated the power he had over your body. You were so wet for him, your deepest passions awakened in minutes.   
You give in. This wasn’t about forgiveness or giving him a second chance. You wanted his body and you were going to take it.   
Pushing him off, you come to standing. Your lips are tingling from the way he kisses you, nearly devouring you with his mouth alone.   
“Get up.” You demand.   
His brows wrinkle as he comes to standing, adjusting himself in his pants.   
You grab his hand and bring him to the bedroom. Rollo can’t keep his hands or mouth off of you. On the short walk, he gropes, kisses, bites anywhere he can.   
Though he’s much larger than you, when you shove him back toward the bed he stumbles.   
“Take off your clothes. Lay down.”   
“Are you trying to dominate me?” He asks while joyfully undressing.   
You stand back at watch. He was truly sculpted by the gods. Your eyes take in every muscle, every curve, every dark hair on his body.   
Once he lays down, you leave the room and come back with rope. When he sees what’s in your hands he sits up, smiling.  
You straddle him, sitting on his stomach as you start tying his wrists to the bed. He continues to chuckle, his eyes watching your every move.   
“You’re going to lay here and take it as I fuck you. Then you need to get the fuck out of my house.” You say in a pointed tone.   
Through Rollo was very much the dominant one, his cock twitches at your words and the way you aggressively tie him to the bed.   
Already turned on, your act of dominance makes him feral. He could break the ropes, pull you beneath him and fuck your brains out. But maybe he’ll let you have your fun first, let you take control for a little while.   
You look good on top of him. The rope in your hand. The serious look on your face. You're now moving too slow for him, he needs you on his cock now.   
After tying the last knot, you stand and undress. His sultry eyes greedily take in your body.   
Climbing back on the bed, you position yourself over his face. “Lick it.”   
Rollo growls, lifting his head as the tip of his tongue licks up your entrance. You grab the bedpost to balance yourself.   
Rollos mouth is greedy, he uses every muscle bringing you closer to euphoria. When you come he sucks up your release, lapping it up like a sacred elixir.   
Lifting yourself up, you crawl down his body to grab his cock. Needing him inside of your now. You want to fuck him through your orgasm.   
Rollo groans as you tease him. The warm wet lips seducing him, kissing his cock, a siren's song he can’t resist.   
You ease your way down, one hand against his body for balance as the other holds his shaft.   
“Gods! Rollo-” you purr his name as he fills you, inch by inch. “Do you like this? Me taking you?” you open your eyes to look at him.   
“Fuck yes, use me.” His voice is deep, heavy with passion.   
You drop down, taking in all of him.   
A cry falls off your lips. It’s been so long since you’ve felt this. No one filled you, stretched you like Rollo.  
He moves beneath you, tugging at the ropes, his desire to touch you is too great. He lifts his hips.   
“If you don’t stop I’ll leave you like this.” You say, moving your hips in a figure 8 motion. His eyes roll back as nonsense leaves his lips. You have him where you want him.   
You speed up, riding Rollo to your second orgasm. He’s not too far behind, Rollo spills into you as you rest against his chest, catching your breath.   
Once you are able to move again, you pull yourself off of him, resting his cock against his stomach.   
You lay on the bed, mostly on his body since he takes up so much space.   
When your breathing evens out, you start to untie him. He’s suspiciously quiet the entire time.   
Loosening the last knot, you gather his clothing and toss it at him.   
“Go.” Your voice a bit strained from moaning so loudly.   
Rollo sits up, looking at the clothing then back at you. “If you being mad at me leads to this, maybe I should stay on your bad side.”   
“Oh gods,” you roll your eyes and shake your head, “ Rollo, go.” You point to the door.   
He stupid grin stays plastered on his face. He stands and gets dressed. “I need to see my brother. But after, I’ll be back.”   
You cross your arms, giving him a look.   
Once he’s dressed, he stands before you, pulling your body close to his and kissing you.   
Just before your lips part, he whispers against your lips, “I’ll make it up to you.”   
You hate the stupid flutter in your stomach and the way your heart jumps. For Rollo, this was an apology.   
You keep your eyes on him, motioning to the door with your head. You took what you wanted, you couldn’t get hung up on his words.   
Rollo grabs the side of your head, planting a kiss on your forehead before he leaves.


End file.
